According to an ancient Mayan prophecy, the world is ending one week from today.

I am here today to tell you that this is absolutely, unequivocally true.

How do I know?

Duh, I’m psychic, I know everything.

No, I won’t help you pick winning lottery numbers.

And I’m not really THAT psychic. Even though Madam Marie’s granddaughter told me that I am.

I’m relying on cold, hard facts this time.

Fact #1: The Mayans said it’s happening. Clearly a civilization that disappeared over a thousand years ago was AWESOME at predicting the future.

The best theory out there about their disappearance was that they were kidnapped by aliens. It’s true. Google it. Of course, the Wikipedia page on the Mayans says that they never disappeared, they just left their main cities due to a drought and were assimilated into other local cultures, but that’s Wikipedia. Everyone knows that ANYONE can edit Wikipedia. Even the aliens that abducted the Mayans.

But the Mayans clearly knew that was coming because they disappeared without a trace, implying that they knew it was coming and had time to pack. See? If they say the world is ending, it’s ending.

Fact #2: There’s a movie about it. It’s called 2012. I mean, I didn’t see it, because the premise of the movie is that neutrinos are heating the Earth’s core and ending the world, and my dad is one of the world’s leading neutrino physicists and that premise was the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life because that’s NOT what neutrinos are or what they do.

Like literally. My dad was one of the head scientists who discovered that neutrinos have mass. He’d know if they were heating the Earth’s core. And he’d tell me. Because he’s my daddy.

But the fact that there’s a movie about it means it’s happening. Clearly.

Fact #3: It’ll be 2015 in just over two years and hoverboard technology isn’t close. We’ve just created a paradox in the space-time continuum big enough to destroy the whole universe. And the world is part of the universe. So it’s ending too.

Fact #4: The Redskins aren’t terrible this year. We have RGIII. We beat the Giants, the Eagles, AND the Cowboys. And even after RGIII got injured in the last game, we STILL won. If this isn’t a sign of an impending apocalypse, I don’t know what is.

See? Indisputable evidence that that world will be ending in exactly one week.

So what should you do?

That depends. If you’re planning to survive the apocalypse, you should probably stock up on all the apocalypse essentials: shotguns, bottled water, Leonardo DiCaprio dvds, a generator (to run whatever you’re going to watch the dvds on), non-perishable food items, and a zombie-English dictionary.

And, most importantly, Will Smith. Because if Hollywood has taught us anything, it’s that no matter what the cause of the end of the world, Will Smith can not only survive it, he can also save the fractured remnants of society.

But if you’re willing to throw in the towel and embrace the end of the world, as I am (I don’t do well with zombies. And the only bottled water that my boyfriend will drink costs like $15 for a six pack. Seriously? It’s water. It comes out of the tap AND the sky for free. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of it my life. Yet another sign that the world is ending: people will spend that much money on WATER. Bring on the apocalypse please, I’m done), your preparations can be a lot more fun.

For example, you know the Ten Days of Repentance in Judaism, when you’re supposed to go around apologizing for all the wrongs that you’ve done to people? I plan to spend the next seven doing the opposite: I’m going to go around telling people EXACTLY what I think of them. I mean, the world is ending, there won’t be any consequences. And I have a few people who I’ve been holding back on for YEARS. This will be awesome. Unless you’re one of the people who has wronged me. In which case I’m about to use the present that I got my father for Hanukkah to tell you what an [expletive deleted] [expletive deleted] [expletive deleted] [expletive deleted] you are.

And all that dieting and exercising I’ve been doing this year? To hell with that! You can’t undo a year’s worth of effort in one week, so I’m eating whatever I want this week.

A whole pizza? Sure! Eighty-seven cookies? Why not! As long as my jeans still fit on Friday when the world ends, it’s all good.

Time to max out those credit cards too. There’s no way you’ll have to pay that debt off, so buy whatever you want. It’s your America folks!

What’s the only thing more fun than spending money you don’t have? That’s right! It’s looting! Go crazy! Take what you want! Why yes, I WOULD like to help myself to a Maserati! Thank you for asking. Oh, it was yours? That’s a shame, it’s mine now. And the beauty of this plan is that when EVERYONE starts looting, the cops will be too busy to do much about it. So yeah, a few unlucky souls might get caught and spend their last week locked up, but in this case, the odds are ever in your favor.

Then it’s time to mess with peoples’ heads. Because really, that’s my primary joy in life anyway as a teacher. All you really need to do it this time is a good pair of wire cutters. Grab those suckers and start cutting any wires you see. Power? Gone. Cable and internet? Gone. Phones? No one uses a landline anyway, that won’t really do anything. But if you can knock down a cell tower, you’ll terrify EVERYONE. And without the ability to check Twitter to see what’s happening, everyone will descend into mass panic and you can laugh at them for the last few minutes before the world actually ends.

Goodbye world, it’s been fun.

Unless of course, the Mayans were somehow wrong, and you follow this advice, in which case my lawyer would like me to publicly state that I am not responsible for anything that happens to you as a result of your own actions.

Like this:

In case you somehow missed the memo (or drank so much that you no longer remember anything), it’s now 2012. Which means we have less than a year less to live.

Just kidding. That Mayan stuff is crap. Sorry kids, you still have to do your homework, the world isn’t ending…

But it IS the time for resolutions.

But not for me—I no longer make New Year’s resolutions. The last time I made one, I resolved not to make a horrified face when I see really ugly people. That didn’t even last until 12:02am. I DID make it a whole minute without making a face when I saw ugly people, but two minutes? Come on, a girl has her limits!

(Side note, when I explained that to one of my former students, Ana told me that the reason I failed in that resolution was because I shouldn’t make resolutions that go against my natural instincts. But if THAT were true, I’d literally own ten billion pairs of shoes and sit around eating cake all day. Because my natural instincts say I should buy all of the pretty shoes I see and eat a lot of cake. Yes, I’d be happy if I resolved to follow that, but I’d also be poor and fat, which would, in turn, destroy the shoe-and-cake-induced happiness. Fat and happy is an oxymoron in my world. Thanks mom.)

Most people, however, are big fans of this whole New Year’s resolution thing. And unfortunately, the most common resolution made is to go to the gym more often.

Which is the REAL reason that I hate New Year’s resolutions and refuse to make them.

Because you see, I am a gym rat. I have been since college, which was a long time ago if you know my real age, and a couple of years ago if you don’t. It used to be so bad that the trainers at my gym would occasionally introduce me when they gave new members a tour. Because I was there THAT often.

Yes, I took a bit of an extended hiatus after getting Rosie (because playing with a puppy is a LOT more fun than running on a treadmill. And she’s so cute!), but I’ve been back in the swing of it for a while now and am insanely addicted again.

How can I resist that face??

Which is why I’m NOT okay with these New Year’s resolution people.

Every year, they flock to the gym like the fat little lemmings that they are and ruin my workout for a month and a half.

It’s awful.

I know, I know, you want to tweet this with the hashtag #firstworldproblems (or possibly #spoiledwhitegirlproblems), but it’s really obnoxious. Because gyms aren’t built to handle the crowds from January 1-February 15. If you tried to Metro downtown for any part of the Obama inauguration, you understand my pain. There just isn’t enough gym space to accommodate the crowds.

And it doesn’t help that these particular crowds are out of shape, monstrously overweight, and really, REALLY sweaty.

I mean, okay, I’ve been sweated on before. It’s never pleasant. Not even when you’re in the front row at a Springsteen show and it’s Bruce sweating on you. But I’d prefer that ANY day over the residual drenching you get if you’re next to a New Year’s resolution person who resembles a hippopotamus on the treadmill. Seriously. These people need to come with signs like they have in the splash zone for Shamu at Sea World. If you’re within two machines of these people, you WILL get wet.

Everyone knows that the New Year’s resolution people will stop going to the gym by mid-February at the latest. Sure, a dozen or so will keep going until halfway through March, and of those, one or two will actually become gym nuts and keep it up. Gyms can handle that kind of growth—because sometimes older gym members die. Or move away. Or get puppies. You know—the circle of life.

So it’s not like the gyms really need to expand—that wouldn’t be cost efficient for the rest of the year. But you know those Halloween stores that pop up in September and are only open until the first week of November?

Yup. We need seasonal gyms.

But here’s the genius part of the plan: they need to be advertised as seasonal gyms. Because the New Year’s resolution people are NEVER going to join a gym that’s going to close in two months. They actually BELIEVE that they’re going to keep this exercise thing up. Despite the fact that they sound like emphysemic hyenas as soon as their heart rates get above 90.

We loyal gym rats, however, would LOVE to go to a gym that’s going to only be serious exercisers until the New Year’s crowd returns to their couches for the rest of the year. I personally would be HAPPY to pay extra to get to go to a gym where the sound of man-boobs flapping won’t overpower my iPod.

And the beauty of this plan is that those stores would be LONG vacant again by the time the space is needed for Halloween stores. It’s a win-win.

But until the gym industry keeps on and fixes this problem, I guess I DO need to make a resolution this year after all: I resolve to be encouraging to the people who want to change their lives by exercising this year.

And to wear a wetsuit to the gym for the next month and a half. Because there’s no humanly possible way to be encouraging to someone who is spraying you with the sweat from under their man boobs.

Meta

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